


North toward the sky

by Ursa_99



Series: Song of the 100s [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Praimfaya, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:47:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursa_99/pseuds/Ursa_99
Summary: Moments of the 100 AU or otherwise that came to mind when I listen to songs.





	North toward the sky

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the music or the 100 series. This piece is called North from the band Sleeping at last [please support the series and the band, both are amazing]

Clarke sat in front of the crackling fire, it wasn’t home though, not completely. Not without her friends. The bundle in her arms shivered and Clarke ran her hand through the girl’s messy locks. It was to cold for her or Madi to take a bath despite how much it was probably needed.

She looked back at the stars, the one glowing dot that she knew to be the Ark’s ring shone dimly against the natural suns billions of miles away, she knew her friends were alive, they had to be.

The bundle in her arms shivered again before giving a small sneeze, the girl curled closer to Clarke. Even with the fire less than three feet away both she and Madi were freezing, and  
Clarke was scared that they might not make it through winter, if this is was only the first week of the season how bad would it get.

It was three years since Clarke survived praimfaya, three years since she lost everything, again; but now she had a purpose; she had hope not just because she was breathing, but because the small girl curled in her lap was breathing too.

A small tugging sensation pulled Clarke from her thoughts and into the young girl’s eyes.

“Sing?”

Clarke couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped, if Madi wasn’t getting a story about her friends then she was getting lesions on how to draw or sing. Though the stories were the young girl’s favorite, and Clarke’s own favorite for that matter.

“Of course, little one”

Clarke settled down to a more comfortable position that kept Madi out of the broken window’s winds. Clarke mad a promise to look for something to block out the wind tomorrow before they froze to death. She tucked the sheets tighter around the two of them, brushing her fingers through Madi’s hair before taking a deep breath.

 

_We will call this place our home_

_The dirt in which our roots may grow_

_Though the storms will push and pull_

_We will call this place our home_

_We’ll tell our stories on these walls_

_Every year measure how tall_

_And just like a work of art_

_We’ll tell our stories on these walls_

Clarke smiled down at the girl who was trying her hardest not to get lulled into a peaceful sleep, she continued to hum as she watched the fire dance for her, the heartbeat of the wood offering its life. Clarke smiled at the stars that peeked through the window.

 

_Smaller than dust on this map_

_Lies the greatest thing we have_

_The dirt in which our roots may grow_

_And the right to call it home_

Clarke yawned the last murmured verse before curling around Madi who snored softly in her arms. Praimfaya may have burned her to hell and back, but Clarke would do it again and again if it meant she could have this peace with Madi forever.

She couldn’t wait till her friends came back down, it would be perfect once they could figure out how to get the bunker open and then they could all feel this peace.

Clarke closed her eyes and dreamed of what was to be, she no longer needed to survive in the future, she was going to live in it.


End file.
